


Chester's Big Break

by itsmylifekay, WhatTheBodyGraspsNot



Series: I'll love you in the cornfields, I'll love you in the hay; I'll love you back in Brooklyn where my heart still loves to stay [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, kitten adventures, writer needs more hobbies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:35:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsmylifekay/pseuds/itsmylifekay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot/pseuds/WhatTheBodyGraspsNot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chester has a plan to go out and see the world, and nothing can stop him once the opportunity arises.</p>
<p>And Bucky thought Steve was the only pint sized terror...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chester's Big Break

Chester’s a curious kitten, a natural born explorer with a knack for hunting out all things exciting and new. He likes to investigate uncharted territories and go where he’s never gone before. (He’s recently discovered that the world’s a pretty big place and he’s decided that he wants to see it _all._ ) He wants to see where his people disappear to every day. He wants to know where all the strange scents they come back with are from, see what put them there...But it’s _hard._

Because even though he’s fierce and strong and majestic, his people always pluck him from the curtains when he’s trying to climb to the top, pull him from behind the TV when he’s just trying to chew at the strange wires in the wall, shut the door on him when he tries to follow them outside.

It’s frustrating, to say the least.

Because, yeah, Chester loves his people and he loves when they hold him and play with him and chase him around the house, but he knows there’s a grand adventure waiting just on the other side of the door. He can see it. Right through the clear panels in the wall. The windows. The portals that no matter how hard he bats at, refuse to give.

And he’s determined to one day go out and see that great big world beyond.

So when the moment of perfect, blessed opportunity arises, when the door’s propped open while his people lug bags of food inside the house, Chester takes it without hesitation. He sprints with all he’s worth and dodges between both sets of legs (they only have two so it’s easier, strange creatures), and then he’s out and there’s grass beneath his feet again and the blue sky above his head. He hears one of his people shout his name, and is quick to be on his way, knowing that they’ll scoop him up and take him inside as soon as they get the chance.

And he’s not _mean_ , so he’ll let them. Eventually. He just wants to play a bit first.

So he runs across the street and under a porch, tucks himself far underneath so they won’t be able to grab him. And it’s sad, when they try to coax him out, call his name and offer him treats and toys. He’s tempted so many times but he knows he has to stay strong. He’s an explorer, he’s fierce and strong and majestic and he _will_ explore the outside today. He’ll go back home to them later, he promises.

(There’s still a pang in his heart when they finally give up and walk away, deciding to come back in an hour and see if he’s ready to come home. They hope that he doesn’t stray far, decide to trust his animal instincts to keep him safe.)

Chester still gives it a few minutes just to make sure they’re gone, that this isn’t some kind of trick. Because he’s learned that lesson before, hiding under a couch after rolling in the food one of them spilled on the floor, edging out from beneath it after hearing them walk away only to have one of them spring out from nowhere and capture him for a bath. It was horrible. So much water.

He shudders a bit at the memory as he slinks out from beneath the porch, tiny nose wiggling to try and see if he can smell anything interesting nearby. And he _can_ , there’s something close, something that smells like another cat and Chester can hardly contain his excitement, already so full of energy but now hardly able to keep himself still. Because there’s someone else like him! He can’t wait to meet them!

And so off he goes, sprinting across the grass to a worn old house with a big tree in front and a sagging front porch.

The climb up the steps is hard, all of his strength required to scratch and pull his way up the battered wood, but eventually he makes it to the top, up to where another cat is sat atop the arm of an old rocking chair. The cat is already staring at Chester with glinting gold eyes. It makes no move to approach him though, just looks down at him from its perch.

But Chester doesn’t mind, just takes it upon himself to hop up onto the rocking chair, failing and falling the first few times before finally getting his claws into the wicker and pulling himself up. The chair is wobbling beneath him and the older cat is staring at him with the same apathetic expression. But that’s fine too, because now Chester is in a position to jump up onto the older cat’s back, to bat at his ears and say, _Wake up and play! Let’s be friends!_

But the older cat must be very tired because he just heaves a sigh and hunkers further down into the chair, staring straight ahead out over the yard. Chester nips at the back of his neck, then switches around because he saw movement and _oh, that’s a tail,_ and he lunges, going to war and winning the battle until the older cat tucks its tail away beside its body. So Chester pouts, flops down on the older cat’s back, wriggles around until they’re facing the same way again then balances his chin between the older cat’s ears. They twitch slightly, tickling Chester’s whiskers, but other than that there’s no acknowledgment that he’s there.

But Chester has decided that they’re friends. Because they’ve played together and they’re in this town together and therefore they’re destined to be the best of pals, partners in crime. And Chester bets this older cat knows a lot about the world, can tell him all kinds of things…

Except right now he’s suddenly very tired, all of that adventuring and running around leaving his eyes heavy, and this older cat is really warm and comfortable beneath him…

And then he’s asleep, not waking up until he hears footsteps on the porch.

“Yes, hello. Steve, dear?”

Chester perks up an ear as someone starts talking beside him. He’s not sure what they’re saying but he’s pretty sure he recognizes one of his people’s names in the jumble of sounds.

“I’m fine, thank you. But I believe your little Chester is missing, isn’t he?”

And that’s _his_ name now, and his ears perk up a little more. Because why is this person talking about him?

“Well, he’s actually here at the moment. With General Burnside. They’re both just taking a little nap if you’d like to come collect him.”

He thinks maybe he should be more concerned about what’s going on, but the older cat is so warm and has started a rumbling purr as its person pets underneath its chin, and maybe it makes Chester’s head bob along with the movement too, but he’s still so sleepy and everything’s so comfortable so he shut his eyes again regardless.

The next time he wakes it’s to the feeling of familiar thin hands wrapping underneath his belly, pulling him up from where he’s nestled onto the older cats back and pressing him to thin cotton and a steady heartbeat instead. He purrs and yawns and wiggles himself into a comfortable position, deciding that he’s really still very tired and yes, his people are allowed to take him home.

For now.

(He’s already making plans for tomorrow.)

 

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End file.
